Clare and Declan Get Dangerous
by RiskyRosie
Summary: My head ached, my heart broke, and she made eveything better. /He is dangerous. He is handsome. He is a little bit insane and I like it.-finished- Ignore the name change.
1. Chapter 1

This is very likely to be a one shot, I haven't figured out if I have enough inspiration to be a full blown story. I haven't seen Why Can't This Be Love, so it might not make sense after it airs.

I would love feedback. Good or bad.

Holly J. sighed as she took a box of her personal effects to her car.

"I'm sorry." She said. Her face looked sullen, and suddenly longer. I hated her unhappy face. It looked like a poor, hungry donkey. "I should have told you."

"I don't care." I cared. "I may be a bit of a womanizer, but I've never broken-up with someone over a text message." I looked down at my shoes. I thought I could keep this from happening if I was attentive to her. I turned away from Holly J. I couldn't face her at the moment. "Sav told me to stay away from you." I could hear the malice dripping off of my voice. My eyes started to burn with tears.

No one saw a Coyne cry. Ever since the dawn of time, Coynes were known for their indifference. When the family came over on the Mayflower, the beauty of a new world didn't move them. When Hitler enticed old great, great grandfather Heinrich into being a Nazi and gotten him killed in battle, aunt Anne didn't cry, she simply sent his old pocket watch to my grandfather in the United States and went on with her life. When great aunt Selma got killed on a bombed freedom ride bus, the only water-works at the funeral came from the merciless rain outside. When I was uprooted from my home in North Dakota and headed to Canada like an unwanted sheep, I could have cared less. No Coynes had ever shed a public tear.

Not until today. The dam had a crack in it. Declan tried to put a piece of gum on it.

Holly J. Would never know what I had given up for her. The models, and the parties. He had fallen out of his parent's grace because of this woman, and she dumped him in a text message.

I opened the large, oak door to my house. A headache started to seep its way into my noggin.

I didn't hate Holly J. I never could. In a million years, he would still think she was pretty, and love her semi-sweet personality. But she didn't want me. She wanted that silly Dot boy.

"I love Spinner."

"I know. I saw the way you looked at him." The sound of her annoying, shuffling feet filled my ears. Holly J. Squirmed when she was nervous. She was like a little slug when you poured salt on her. She sighed.

"Good bye, Declan."

"Good riddance, Holly J." I walked inside and slammed the door behind me.

* * *

A horrid clanking sound contrasted with the sound of the gravel in the Coyne driveway. I looked over at the entrance of the large house. The top of the trim on the large door was still covered in dust. The diplomatic house had been empty for years until we came along. The place had been creepy and dark. Mother installed lights and hired a maid on the taxpayer money. Mother loved to spend taxpayer money. I could hear her ugly shoes make their way from the horrid car. I swung the door open before she had a chance to knock.

Why did she have to show up at a time like this? I don't want to see her ugly face today. Not today. I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Damned headache. It felt as though it would never go away. Tylenol didn't help, even his mother's 'prescribed pills' didn't help it. It felt like a legion of foot soldiers were trampling all over his brain matter. They wrestled in their free time and had bonfires. Then, every few hours, she soldiers would find an enemy force and have a littler skirmish.

I have a very different perception of her now that our little fling has ended. She was weak willed when t came to men. Her hair had been ironed way too many times. The ring in her nose couldn't be sanitary. She had cheated on a decent person. (I may be angry with him, but the Dot boy had decent character.) Jane made his skin crawl.

"What do you want?" I was in a foul mood. Jane stood wide-eyed at my coarseness. I was dressed in a white undershirt and a pair of large sweat pants that threatened to fall off of my hips. I hadn't shaved or combed my hair yet either.

"Are you sick?" Sick? Sick! Was that the best she could do? Her voice! The woman stung his temples like a huge, African killer bee that had its hive stomped on.

"Why do you assume that I'm sick? I don't always have to look perfect."

"I don't know." She wrung her hands. Suddenly, the grass looked very interesting. "I caught Spinner with Holly J." Jane broke into tears. "I need someone to talk to." How dare she! She cheated on _him_!

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it? How 'bout you go talk to someone who cares." I don't have time for her pathetic self. I have desperate wallowing to do.

"What? Declan, we're in the same situation here."

"No, we're not. You cheated on Spinner. He cheated on you." Jane looked outraged.

"That slut Holly J. enticed him."

"Holly J. is better than that. She broke it off with _him_." I rubbed my hands over my eyes and stepped back inside my home. _It _followed me in. 1,000 Ways to Die was playing on the large, flat-screen television. Some loser was jacking off into a cow heart and got electrocuted. Depressing.

"What's your problem? You were all over me a few weeks ago."

"A few weeks ago, I was board and wanted an easy piece of ass."

"Then why didn't we have sex?" I thought for a moment. I didn't know why we didn't do anything apart from heavy petting. We just . . . . didn't.

"Because you were too easy." I lied. 'I don't understand' would have been the truthful answer. Possibly, I wasn't ready. Possibly, deep in the recess of my mind, I knew she was a skuzz.

I started to walk up the spiral staircase to his room. The only thing that could be heard was the screams of a dying man and the gentle tapping of my feet. They went together. The sounds of this grim, dusty house was enough to kill a weaker man. But I am strong. I stopped.

"What do you want?" I asked again. I kept my head turned away from the repulsive woman.

Now, the legion was in an all out war.

"To get over Spinner."

"What did I do to deserve this? Was I a murderer in a past life?" I meandered out loud. "Why must I always get his sloppy seconds?"

"Sloppy?!"

"Yes. Sloppy. S-l-o-p-p-y. Sloppy." Jane stormed out of the door, got into her car, and left.

* * *

Clare walked out of the Dot with a strawberry smoothie in her hands. "Holly J. and Spinner looked cozy." said Alli. Alli took a long, slurping sip of her chocolate milkshake.

"Yeah, I wonder how Declan feels about that." Said Clare. She sipped her own smoothie. Poor Declan. Clare inhaled the soft scent of the damp, heavy grass. She felt the heavy, damp air. It was about to rain heavy, damp water.

"If I were him, I'd get pissed off."

"Same here." They started to walk home. "It hurts when your significant other wants another person." They were in the same nonexistent boat. "I hope he handles it better than I did."

"Clare, you didn't do anything wrong. K.C. was the bad guy in this cowboy movie. Not you."

"Then why did he dump me?"

"Because he thinks with his, other, brainless head." A loud honking noise sounded down the road. An old, red car sped to the curb and stopped. A large man with long, greasy brown hair got out.

"Hello, ladies. Like the car?" Bruce smiled as if he had hit the lottery. Clare and Alli walked on.

"Have you ever got the felling that, something drastic has happened?" Clare asked.

"Like what?"

"For some, strange reason, I feel as though we may be . . . " Alli stopped walking. Clare looked her in the face with a death stare.

"Hey, don't you think my car is sexy?!" Shouted Bruce.

"-surrounded by morons." They both laughed. Alli took a left. Clare walked on to the usual red light where she would turn right

Claire and K.C. Used to separate at this red light when they left the Dot. Clare looked around. She was alone.

No one was on the street, no one was on the sidewalk. Clare stopped walking and dropped her school bag on the sidewalk. She took a deep breath. Clare had been in shock because of K.C. Clare had cried because of K.C.

The air started to close in on her. The buildings looked closer, the street felt like it was getting longer. The grass changed colors.

Clare started to breathe heavily. Everything was thicker! She screamed at the top of her lungs. She threw her smoothie into the street as hard as she could.

"Damn him! Damn Jenna! Damn this stupid empty street!" Clare's voice lowered to a whisper. "Damn my sorry fucking life." She kicked her bag and sat down on the curb. She wanted to cry, but she didn't. She wanted to run away from the concrete.

Now, she had screamed over him.

_Squeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllll. _Clare whipped around. A black sports car skidded off of the road and on to the sidewalk in front of her. The young girl wanted to run away from the car, but she didn't. She just sat on the curb and watched. A convict or a murderer could have bolted out of the car and abducted her, and she would have been sitting here like a sad duck.

I got out of the car as fist as I could. My shoes slipped on the damp pavement as I ran towards Clare. "Spinner! Spinner, what's so great about Spinner?" I yelled frantically. I ruffled my own hair quickly and looked to Clare. "Is he smarter than me? Is he more handsome?"

"Are you talking about that Gavin guy who works at the Dot?"

"Yes! Wait, what? His name is Gavin?"

"Yep. Didn't you check his name tag?" Gavin? The man who stole my woman away from me had a name like Gavin? Ugh, before today is over, I'll need a self-help book.

"He's nice." My mind raced. Nice. _Nice,_ what did nice mean exactly? Was it nice like a nice butt, or nice like he would give you your smoothie even if you were short a few cents.

"Is he nicer than me?" I asked. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes again. Was he better than me? No. I am a Coyne. My father's a diplomat. My mother is the richest woman in Degrassi. Gavin didn't measure up to me. Right?

"No." Relief struck me. But I wasn't out of the woods yet.

"Is he smarter than me?"

"No. His grammar is horrible." I let out a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding. I took a step closer to Clare. Her icy blue eyes shone like a glacier. Now, they were gentle, like a soft snow. But when she was angry, they could cut through you like frozen blades. (Some idiot had broken one of her plywood boards for the set. Her glare alone made him go buy a new one.)

"More handsome?" Clare paused. I probably looked intimidating to her. She was so small, so gentle, and I just rolled up and started to fire questions at her. I had gotten so close to her. What are you supposed to do to calm a girl. I decided to do something that I had seen in one of Fiona's girly movies.

I gently placed my hands on her shoulders. A gentle blush crept across her fair skin and settled on her cheeks.

"No."

I smiled. Clare's eyes slipped down to my teeth. I couldn't blame her. They were straight and white. I caught a bit of envy on her face, but it quickly dissipated to a glace of appreciation. Poor Clare had a few teeth that were too close together and the ones right next to her front teeth were ingrown and needed caps. "Thank you." I whispered. I wrapped my arms around her. She buried her face into my shirt. I could feel her inhale. Pried sprung up in my heart. At least someone appreciated the way he smelt. Father used to tell him he smelled like a his dead grandmother's house in the country. Grandma kept the house smelling like the clean air outside. I'm still not sure if he said that as a compliment or an insult.

Clare embodied the scent of fresh vanilla. I held her tighter. Slowly, I reached and brought a hand full of her light brown locks to his nose. I inhaled deeply and let the comforting scent fill my lungs.

I had never, ever wanted to smell Holly J. She always smells like smoke and coffee.

Holly J.

The dam had broken. Tears rolled down my face and into Clare's sweet smelling hair.

"What's wrong?" The lady I held in a death grip asked. Her voice struck a chord in my heart. She sounded just as distressed as I did. I tensed. I hoped she wouldn't ask. More wet tears clung to the top of her head and seeped through to the scalp.

My weight pushed us over the street in the grass in the median, and ultimately, on our bottoms, on the grass in the median. The two of us won't ever get the grass stains out of our jeans.

"Holly J. broke up with me." I wiped my face with one of my hands, but I didn't let go of Clare. Broken up. They had broken up. No, Holly J. had dumped him, she had made him cry like a baby, and she had made him frantic and desperate. "She fell in love with that Dot boy." Clare said nothing. Herhand rubbed my damp hair in a soothing manner.

* * *

Bruce the Moose drove his semi-new car slowly down Degrassi's main drag. The after school daze had set in, everyone would go to practice, some would go to the Dot, and others would go home and continue their sad lives.

Bruce looked for someone, anyone to show his car off to.

There, in the median between the two streets laid in a heap. Upon closer inspection, Bruce realized with a start that Declan, the musical boy, and Clare, the little genus girl, holding on to each other as if their life depended on ti. He scoffed. Such strange things happened in Degrassi.

Bruce pulled his car to the side of the road and pulled his binoculars from the glove box. What? A guy named Bruce the Moose couldn't be a bird watcher?

* * *

I closed his eyes and tried to stop the tears. The were unbecoming of a diplomat, or a musical director for that matter. Clare's hand ran through my hair and kept rubbing. I sighed in sweet, delicate relief. She was such a sweet girl. His perpetual headache slowly drifted away. Everything about her was soothing.

The way she rubbed his head. The way she breathed steadily, like nothing could scare her, change her strong, repetitive heartbeat. She walked lightly, as if she barley touched the ground, her skilled fingers when she dictated musical messages for the Grapevine, and the Anti-Grapevine danced over the keys over her, and sometimes, _his _computer.

Suddenly, the bottom fell out of the clouds. Rain fell on the couple of teenagers like the angels had poured it out upon them in buckets.

The crying stopped, but I still didn't let go, but I did loosen his grip so I could see her face.

"When did you become so beautiful?" I whispered slowly as I ran my ling fingers though her wet, cool hair. My heart pounded like he had just finished a marathon. I could feel the flush of desire that shone prominently on my face. I pulled the drenched glasses away from her blue eyes and threw them onto the street.

The sound of the plastic lenses scraping on the pavement sent a chill down Clare's back. I watched her shiver.

* * *

Bruce threw his binoculars into the seat and turned on his , windshield wipers. The rain had started to pour, he couldn't see anything. He slowly started to drive home.

* * *

The rain poured.

I cupped Clare's cheek in my hand and started to stroke the soft, flushed skin.

The rain fell so heavily that the only thing I could see was Clare's wet body and her beautiful face. That's the way I like it. I leaned down and kissed Clare's soft, pink lips gently. After a moment, she started to kiss me back. My eyes closed as I savored the felling of closeness. The rain started to slow down. We just kept kissing, oblivious to the world around us. A cars stormed by and horns honked.

"You want to stop?"

"No."

"Can you only say 'no.'"

"No." We started to kiss again.

I didn't care. Clare didn't care.

"Sorry to interrupt, but assuming that's your car over there, you need to move it before I have to give you a traffic ticket for parking on the sidewalk." We parted. Clare's eyes got wide as she looked over my shoulder. Her face reddened. I smiled. She could kiss like an adult, but she still got embarrassed like a child who was caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

I laughed out loud. I fell on my back and giggled as if I were a school girl that had been told a nasty joke. I got up and held a hand out to Clare. She pulled her embarrassed, soaking wet self off of the grass and took my hand.

We got into my car, and we drove off into the direction of a rainbow.


	2. Candy

I added the part about Clare's teeth because everyone little flaws, and I didn't want to jack-up her face. I know her teeth don't have anything wrong with them(I don't think anyone on Degrassi has dental problems, except Anya's braces.)

Some of the out-of-context things about the car are just figures of speech.

* * *

Driving into the rainbow didn't last too long. Some good things have to end. Night fell and my curfew pressed down on us.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to get home."

"Oh, but I don't want to give you up." Declan whined. Even though he was driving seventy in a forty mile zone, he turned his handsome face three quarters toward me and smiled a sad smile.

My heart started to race. Were going to crash. Declan's going to get us killed. If I get killed in a crash with a boy, my parents are going to think I'm having sex again. My mom would put something awful on my tombstone. Something like:

_ Here lies Clare, our wayward daughter. Even though she broke the speed limit and any of the rules we set for her, we still love her. Let her death be a lesson to all the defiant children out there who don't listen to their parents and the law. They too may give up their virginity before marriage, and get killed by a devilish, reckless driver. _

I could feel my eyes close. We are going to _crash_! Declan's not paying attention to the road! I opened my eyes. We were still going seventy, and Declan was still looking at me.

We hadn't crashed yet.

"Why not?" I smiled back, giving him a glimpse of my funny teeth. His were so perfect, and mine, well, not so perfect.

He looked back to the street and sighed. Declan's face suddenly turned serious. "I'm sorry. I just . . . I was frantic. You were the first person I could think of, and . . ." Declan said, completely ignoring the fact that he was driving _away_ from Degrassi.

My heart sank, but then it went back up to it's original place.

He thought of me first?

That makes me feel special. Declan tries to let go of the hand of mine that he was still holding over the middle seat, but I wouldn't let him.

He looked down to his lap. He thinks I don't want to be around him. Did I do something wrong? Whatever, I've got to fix this. If I don't, I'll be letting go of a good thing.

I think I've liked Declan for a while, I just couldn't put but my feelings together until now. Sometimes good things blinds you until the perfect time.

"Declan, don't be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong." I didn't want to talk about this. Why can't things just be 'I like you, you like me, let's just see where things go.' Cut and dry.

Life would be too simple. What's the challenge in just getting what you want? I understand that, but right now, I wish I wasn't playing the little game of gambling and challenges called life.

He kept his eyes trained on the road. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

"I ambushed you, and then kissed you. That's not very gentleman-like."

"I don't like perfect gentleman. Their pansies. The partial gentleman are _way _more fun." A confused look crossed his face. "Boys who open doors are nice, but the chaste courtship is a little too much." He laughed. His laugh was deep and soft, like a warm armchair. "And besides that, you can't ambush the willing." We both laughed at my little joke. My mind turned to a different topic.

The car was starting to slow down.

I still had to get home, not just for my curfew, but I have an essay I have to finish and a social studies chapter to read. I looked at Declan's profile. He had a little bit of a tan and a straight, slightly large nose. It was cute, in a goofy, 'I can smell everything because I have a huge nose' kind of way. He had a few freckles across the bridge of his large honker.

"Sorry to end the evening, but I have to get home." I repeated.

"Alright." He was still smiling. "Where do you live?" I gripped his hand a little bit. If I walked into my house alone at night, my mother would go berserk, but if I rolled up to my house in some random black sports car, she would go even more berserk.

I never had much respect for my mother. She would give me the silent treatment if I wore two different socks.

"3639 De Grassi Street. It's the white, perfect house." I said in a downcast voice.

"The one with all the landscaping and the fence?"

"Yeah, I live in that hell hole." He raised his slightly bushy eyebrows.

"It seems nice." He slowed down and turned to drive down the other lane of the street.

"You haven't met the people who live in it." I sighed. Sometimes, I couldn't stomach my own family. I think I was secretly adopted when my parents couldn't have any more kids. That wold explain why I look more like the woman down the street that always gives me cookies than I look like my mother. It's possible that I'm my father's child. We have the same, blue eyes. I have contemplated the theory that he cheated on my mother with the woman down the street and, thus, I was conceived.

"Is your family really that bad?"

"My dad's okay, but my mom is a bit critical." _A bit. _A bit was a backwards exaggeration. 

"That sucks. I heard you have a sister."

"Yep. Darcy. She decided to go to Kenya and build a school."

"How long has she been gone?"

"Long time."

"Then, why isn't she back yet?"

"I don't know. Something about helping a little girl get a surgery." Declan nodded his head. Appreciation glinted in his eyes, and possibly some respect.

"She sounds like a real humanitarian." He turned off of the main drag and on to De Grassi street.

"Yep. A humanitarian who forgot where she came from."

"How so?"

"She doesn't call us anymore. We don't get any packages from Kenya either. She just sends us her cloths to wash." I kept thinking about it. "Well, for me to wash. Mom doesn't want to touch them. She thinks she'll get AIDS." Declan looked to his lap again.

"So . . . um . . ." He looked to his glove box and flashed me his teeth again. "Do you like almonds?" I do like almonds.

"Yes."

"Do you like chocolate?" I smiled.

"Yes." He pulled the little leaver, button, opener thingy and grabbed a Hershey bar out of the cavern and tried to hand it to me, but he dropped on the floor board. My smile got bigger. Big goof. Declan quickly grabbed it up from the floor and handed it to me. He slowed down the car a bit and watched me for a moment. I sunk my teeth into the candy and made a pleasure noise. Not like an 'I want some sex' noise, it was a 'Now that you mention it, I'm starving' noise.

My parents didn't let me have candy in the house. They said it condones acne, and terrible teeth, and hyper activeness, and boyfriends and all the other things that they didn't want us to have anything to do with. I only got to have it when I was out with Alli. (The school didn't keep sugar.)

The car had stopped.

I am eating candy, I have a cute boy holding my hand, and I feel good.

* * *

When we reached my house, my high mood came crashing down. A red, familiar car was parked in the driveway. Darcy.

Declan pulled in my driveway and stopped the car. "Thank you." I said because I was at a loss for any other words.

"Your welcome." Declan squeezed my hand a bit. "Your always welcome." He let go of me and pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil from his school bag (that sat next to my wet bag that we had to turn around and get) and wrote something on it. "Call me, anytime."

"So, you'll be at my beck and call?" I asked jokingly.

"Basically, yes." He was serious.

"Oh . . . alright." I took the paper and grabbed my bag out of the backseat. I opened the car door and started to get out, but his eyes on his back compelled me to stop. I looked at him. Pain and sorrow was evident on his face. Pain at our parting? Or sorrow of being alone in general? I couldn't tell. I used to be able to read K.C. like a large print children's book, but I couldn't tell what Declan was thinking. I scooted over into the middle seat and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"I'll call you later."

"Promise?"

"Promise." I got out of the car and walked to the door. I looked at Declan was sitting in his car with a goofy, silly, perfect smile on his face.

* * *

I walked into my perfect, hellish house. The walls were the color of a rotten egg yolk and the carpet was a stark white. There was a bunch of large, gray furniture. It's too much furniture if you ask me, but nobody ever asks me, so I guess my opinion doesn't matter to them. The fact that I have to lay my eyes on the putrid colored walls and sit on the gray, depressing couch and wish I hadn't been a good child and slung finger paint on the walls when I was small.

On that depressing, gray eyesore was my happy big sister, Darcy. Her brown hair had sun bleached streaks and her skin was darkly tanned. If she was any darker, I would have mistaken her for a New Jersey tanning addict. Darcy wasn't just tan, she was down right orange, but she looked as happy as could be. When she saw me, her happy look soured as if she had just saw something truly ugly.

My sharp featured mother and my slightly plump father sat on the parallel love seat. Mother gave me an angry glare. Dad just looked on.

There's the Edwards women, looking at me like I'm a hooker. I'm not sure if I am a hooker in their eyes because I'm still soaking wet and I was out well past my curfew, or because I had a half eaten chocolate bar in my hands. Darcy plastered a fake smile on her orange face. "Hey, sis." I nodded my head.


	3. The Bitch is Back in Action

"Darcy came back home. She wanted to surprise us. Isn't that considerate?" Considerate? It was anything but considerate. Why did Darcy have to come home at a time like this? Now, almost everything in my life is getting shook-up, and my least favorite sister (supposedly) just _had_ to show up.

I think she is embarrassed by me. Wait, check that. I _know_ she is embarrassed by me.

Daddy rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea, but then decided it wasn't to his liking and put it back on the coffee table. He noticed me looking at him, so he made a funny face and motioned to mother, then made a chocking motion. No one noticed but me. I had to fight a smile. If I smiled, I'd sell Daddy out, and we didn't do that to each other.

Ever since Darcy went to a third world country to help children, all mother could talk about was 'Darcy is so smart.' She only passed the tenth grade because I helped her with her homework. 'Darcy is so pretty.' Couldn't argue with that, she did have a nice facade. Or the real kicker, 'Darcy is so pure.' Pure like an oily rig at a mechanicals shop. There's no telling what Kenyan man she's been gallivanting around with.

Here I am, with contraband in the form of chocolate. I knew my hair was a mess because of Declan large, long, digits running through it. My clothes still clung to me in a desperate attempt to warm their wet selves. Oh, I'm such an embarrassment. I wasn't skilled in the ways of smooth lies like Darcy. She had perfected it like a skeet shooter would perfect their aim.

How I would love to be a skeet shooter, breaking little plates in midair. Hopefully, one of the plates would be the color of the dreaded walls in this dreadful house. The other one would be a picture of me dressed up like a hooker, with Declan dressed like a pimp.(He would be a cute pimp.) The other would have Darcy's face on it, but I digress.

Darcy looked me over. I noticed her eyes darting from my hair, to my fair skin, to the candy in my hands. She was taken aback at the confection.

It isn't like candy is blood. I'm no vampire, but in their eyes, I may as well have been part of the Cullen family. A very blood thirsty member. They may think that I can't resist the urge to feed, so I have to break out of the house in the middle of the night and feed on unsuspecting Christians. I'm a Christian, why would I eat one?

I wished Declan were here, holding my hand, but sometimes, you can't have what you want.

I sat down on the couch next to Darcy and gave her a half-hearted hug. "You grew up." She said. I could hear a bit of disdain in her tone, but I decided to ignore it. A row with the Queen of Helping Kenya wouldn't help my position. It was like I was playing a one-sided game of chess, and I was about to loose.

"Clare," mother started. I gripped my candy a bit tighter. It was _mine_. I couldn't let her take it away from me. "Throw away that poison and ask your sister how she's doing." I looked at the Hershey bar for a moment. "Clare, I said throw it away." My mother looked angry. She does that when I don't listen to her.

She will be a very angry woman for a while. I took a bite of _my_ candy.

"No."

Checkmate. No do overs, no take backs. I had won, and she couldn't do anything about it. My mother took a deep breath and held her hand out. "Give it to me." Was I a child who wouldn't stop smacking her gum?

"No. It's mine.'

"Yes, but your in _my_ house." Mother said.

"Mom is right, throw that stuff away. Where did you get it form anyway?" said Darcy as she ran her finger over the coffee table as if she were looking for dust, even though I knew that she knew there wouldn't be any. I thought being in a third world country made you humble, but some people never change.

"A friend." I stated, smiling at the memoire of Declan's fumbling hands. Soft, fumbling hands with long, gentle fingers.

"Alli?" I rolled my eyes. Mother didn't like Alli. She wanted me to stay away from Muslim people. Alli's parents knew I'm not allowed to have sugar. How could someone be so . . . well, such a hypocrite. This was a ploy to get Alli in even more trouble than she already was with her parents. The poor girl was in the dog house for getting back with Johnny. Sav had gotten concerned for her, so, he ratted her out. I felt sorry for her, but at the same time, I agreed with Sav. Now though, after what I did in the middle of a Degrassi's main drag, I can't say much.

I was happy Darcy wasn't around when the K.C. drama went down. She would have told on me out of spite.

I wasn't that bad of a sister. Sure, I teased her and annoyed her a bit, but I looked out for the little booger. She made good choices because the people around her were making good choices. She was the same way with the bad ones.

"No. Alli knows she can't give me candy." Bitch. It was simple, my mother was being a bitch. She knows that Alli's parents know that I'm not supposed to eat sugar. Just because they knows doesn't mean she won't give it to me. I usually get goodies when I go to the Bhandari house. Alli's mother loves to bake.

"A boy?" I could lie to her. I could tell her that I took it from a nice, white, middle-aged person in an unmarked white van. That the nice, white, middle-aged man in the unmarked white van offered me a ride home, and I let him drive me. The police would be here before you could say 'sex offender.'

I don't like to lie. "Yes." I forced an innocent look across my face. I didn't want to let her get a rise out of me. No explanations, no excuses, just_ sweet _little me and the troll didn't want me to get over the bridge.

How could she miss the nice, shiny, expensive car pull up in her driveway? I will never know, but daddy saw it. I could tell by the smile that played itself across his face.

My father is a strange man. He loves Fran, my mother, and he loves me, but he never really cared for Darcy. Somehow, he sees what mother can't. The favoritism, (or in the very likely account that I'm the spawn of my father and the lady down the street, nepotism) was clear as crystal to him, whereas it was like stained glass Church windows to everyone else. I know it's wrong to desecrate a church, but I wish someone would smash those stained windows. I would pay for the new, clear ones. What's the point of windows you can't see through?

Darcy got up and started to walk across the awful carpet. Her shoes contrasted with the color. Her bright, white shoes. Just like Fran Edwards' mental illustrations of her. "I'm going to get my stuff out of the car." I wish she would get in her car and leave.

"Be careful, sweetie, don't over extend yourself." She said through her glare at my, _sweet, innocent_, **defiant** self. I could see that she was gritting her teeth inside her mouth.

"I won't. I didn't take much to Kenya, and brought even less back. They don't have many cloths over there, and I lost weight, so some of mine got too big. Got to pay it forwards." More like get a free vacation through a Church. Darcy might be the favorite in Mother's eyes, but daddy wasn't afraid to put his foot down. Things had started to get turbulent.

Mother waited until Darcy walked out the door. "We'll talk about this later."

Daddy rolled his eyes again. I walked over and sat on the couch. The silence started to become sharp, like some ancient person making an arrowhead. I felt as though I was the one who was supposed to be getting cut, but I felt fit as a fiddle. A Stradivarius. I smiled, and finished off my candy.

"Clare, where are your glasses?" Shit. Oh shit. I had told myself that I wouldn't forget to get them out of the street, even though they were scratched. Broken glasses are better than no glasses. By the time the rain let up, I had gotten used to the changed vision, . . . and the make-out high I was still on.

"I lost them." That wouldn't get me off the hook. I looked to dad. He nodded his head in understanding. He lost his glasses all the time.

"Well, I'm not buying you another pair." said mother as she crossed her arms over her little breasts. Good. I don't want her stupid, tainted glasses. I'd rather jump out of my second story window that take anything from that horrid woman. My fledgling, possible, love affair is much better than sight! Give me love or give me death!

I can't even see my mother's face clearly. I wish she would buy me some new glasses.

Darcy walked back in the room with her hands loaded with luggage. Two rolling suitcases, one carrying suitcase, and one large, overstuffed purse.

She had left with one suitcase.

"Clare, go help her with her stuff." I drug myself off of the couch and took her carrying bag. "You can take more than that. Don't be a sloth." I'm not a sloth. I've done more in the last two hours than she have done all day.

I've finished my history project with Alli, let Declan brake my glasses, gotten a smoothie, walked to the Dot to get that smoothie, bought the smoothie, made out with a man, gotten wet, ate chocolate, and a lot of other, important things.

I took one of the rollers and lugged it up the stairs. I followed Darcy all the way down to the end of the hall. That's not right. She opened my bedroom door. That's not right.

"I have got to settle into my room. Take your junk out."

"Darcy, this is my room now." The room used to be hers, and I had to take the small room at the end of the hall. Then, she left, and mother made my room into the guest room. Much to mother's dismay, I can't sleep with the guests, so I moved into Darcy's old room.

Move your feet, lose your seat. Bad rhyme, good policy. "Why don't you just take the guest room. It's already cleaned out."

"It's too tiny. I couldn't fit all of my stuff in it." She couldn't fit all of her stuff in this room, just more of it.

"Too bad. You moved." I said in an angry tone. Darcy had always been rude to me. I think she thinks that she's entitled to all that I have because she was born first. I'm glad she is the oldest. (I still don't think were full blooded sisters, but that's beside the point.) I wouldn't want to come out of Fran's private parts first. There would be more pushing involved. I would have fought to get out of my mother's. . . ugh. . . I can't even think about her . . . ugh.

"I don't care. I was here first." She dropped her purse on _my _bed. "Besides, you know mom would side with me." I'm not stupid. Of corse I know. Darcy is a bit stupid.

"You can't just roll in here and take whatever you want. You lost seniority."

I had to distract her wit something aesthetic, like a good view. This room had a good view. This room was almost perfect. The only thing wrong with it is that it's far away from the bathroom.

Bingo.

"Fine, I'll just get to use the bathroom. It'll be so much easer to get to now."

"What are you talking about?"

"My new room is right next to the bathroom." With that, the stupid little humanitarian girl sprinted to the guest room and threw herself on the bed. Just to remind her determine attitude, I ran to the room and told her with a corse tone "Get off. That's mine."

"Not any more." Putty in my hands. I wish she would bounce like silly putty. I'd throw her around the room until she was covered in carpet fibers, but she's the cheap knock of putty that doesn't bounce.


	4. The Call

**To anyone who is reading this, am I portraying Clare in a believable light? I think she may get feisty because I have a very mild mannered friend who tells me that she has some particularly nasty thoughts.**

** Same question for Declan. He may be a player, but I think the Holly J. Experience may have given him a bit more respect towards women.**

* * *

I pulled up to my house to find my sister Fiona sitting in the driveway, with no shoes, two different socks and an odd streak of something white in her hair. Her face was smeared with and blue powder. She had a downcast scowl on her face.

It reminded me of the way Holly J. Used to look at me when she had when she needed to find her apron but couldn't. I took her apron because I didn't want her to go to work and leave me at school by myself.

She went to work anyway.

She would always dump me in the auditorium and prance on to her little Spinner.

But she wasn't like Holly J., because she was cute while she did it, even is it was a scowl.

I exited my car and sat down next to her. She had a 'sad turtle' look about her. She smelled like smoke.

"What's wrong?" I asked her. She just sat there, without saying anything. I rubbed her back. She smiled, then laughed like she was mad. My sister has gone insane! What's laughable about having odd _white stuff_ in her hair and being dressed like she had just had sex with a clown?

"I tried to bake a cake." Oh, my deity of pastry, she tried to bake. The last time she baked I had to use the fire extinguisher. That explained the mysterious white streak in her hair. She stretched her legs out in front of her. "I dropped an egg, so I had to change socks." I looked down and smiled. Just like Fiona, change one wet sock but leave the dry one on, even if it didn't match

"Did you set the house on fire?" Please tell me she didn't set the house on fire. Please tell me she didn't set the house on fire. _Please tell me she didn't set the house fire. _

"No." Fiona looked at me. Poor Fiona, didn't know what I had been doing. I usually filled her in, but this was different. I just . . . couldn't. Not yet. "Did you flood your car." Said my sister, referring to my damp appearance.

"You could say that."

"Did it get you out of you 'melancholy turtle' days? You look happy."

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"Clare happened." I stood, and walked into the open door of the house, leaving Fiona with a confused look written on her face. She didn't know much about Clare. I doubted the name even rung a bell. My life is turning around.

I sat on the couch. What am I supposed to do now? I could take Clare to the movies. No, not good enough. She was a little, delicate, koi fish that had decided to nibble on my hook, and I still had to catch her. I could write her a poem, but I'm an awful writer. Chocolate? I already did that.

Oh shit, what if she's lactose intolerant? I ran my fingers through my hair nervously. I may have given her a night full of sorrowful upchucking. No, I'm being preposterous. Aren't I? I lost Holly J. Because I wasn't watching her close enough. Would I do the same thing with Clare? No. I can't. I won't.

Am I over thinking this? Yes, yes I am.

I'll just sit here, with my cell phone in hand, and wait for her to call.

Fiona walked back inside and sat next to me. She pulled off her socks altogether and threw them on the recliner. Sweet Fiona. I liked when she was around. She doesn't make me feel _whole_ but she is so mellow when she is just lounging around.

My phone rang. I answered it before it could ring twice.

"Clare?" I asked eagerly.

"No, Peter." I felt my shoulders droop. "Why? Were you expecting Clare?"

"Yes! Well, no . . . ugh, I don't know." Nosey bastard. "What do you want?" I don't have the time, or the extra phone line, or the patience for this.

"On?"

"Speaking of Clare, you know her sister Darcy?" Humanitarian girl?

"No, I don't know her." Dumbass. There's no way I could know her.

"But you know who I'm talking about it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she used to be my girlfriend, and she just texted me." Poor Peter. I felt sorry for him, but I couldn't have him tying up my phone line.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"I don't know what to do. I want advice from the tamed player." I scowled. I am nowhere near 'tame.' In fact, I'm still a loose cannon. Right? Yes. Wild and loose. Wild and loose. Wild and loose.

I am such a love struck puppy.

"Peter, Do you want her?"

"I don't know."

"Well, figure it out, and then do something about it." I hung up the phone.

"What was that about? I thought you were friends with Peter." Fiona asked.

"I am, but I'm waiting on an important call."

"You didn't have to be such an ass."

"Yes, I did. Peter would have kept me on the phone all day." "You really like Clare, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, have fun waiting. I've got to clean up the exploded cake in the kitchen."

"Just let the maid do it."

"It's my mess, and I'm going to clean it up." That's admirable, but we pay someone to be clean for us. I decided not to argue with Fiona. I know I couldn't win if I did.

Diplomat. That's what the letters hung on the wall said. In her own right, Clare was a diplomat. She was friends with just about everyone at school. She didn't get into fights. I heard her brake up with her last boyfriend was a clean brake. Or at least, it was clean according to Chante. Very diplomatic.

I had read her records when she became Prop Master, and I found out that Shep had offered to bump her up a grade, but she declined. She had straight A's since the first grade. She used to go to a private school.

I found out about Darcy, so I read her records too. I found that her school life was much less . . . commendable. She went to Kenya and continued her schooling over an online basis, but she only finished her half of her 12th grade year.

I knew so much about her, but at the same time, I hardly knew her. What's her favorite color? Does she like the circus? (I love the circus.) Is she lactose intolerant? I simply didn't know.

But I would find out. I started to replay the events of the day in my mind, trying to find something about her that I may have missed..

Damn-it. I broke her glasses. She's probably looking for the right numbers on her phone so she can call me, but can't see them because I broke her glasses.

I ran to my computer and pulled up the website for the local eye doctor. Just as I thought, they were stupid enough to leave a trace of their patient records on their website. It was a simple website, so I was able to hack into the files. Blackmail work for daddy paid off after all.

I found her prescription and then found a website that made glasses on demand. I ordered a pair that looked like the ones she had and set them on express order.

When they came in, I would give them to her and she would swoon into my arms.

Damn, I'm good.

Wait. What? Why would she do that? I broke them, I have to get her new ones anyway. If she hated me, I'd still get her new glasses. They wouldn't be enough to get her in my fishing net.

My phone rang. I answered.

"Hello?" I said, not wanting to replay the thing with Peter. I couldn't sound too eager.

"Hello? Declan?" asked a soft feminine voice. Clare! She could find the buttons after all.

"Yes. Hey, Clare, are you lactose intolerant?" I knew it was a stupid question, but it had been eating away at me ever since I had gotten home.

"No," she paused. I imagined her eyebrows coming together in puzzlement. "What gave you that idea?"

"I'm sorry. I don't know."

"Don't be sorry. I found my snack very toothsome." Toothsome, I have no clue what that means, but it's a cute little word. She caught on to the chocolate thing. My girl is as smart as a whip.

"Toothsome?"

"It means tasty. It's an old word. No one ever uses it anymore."

"Toothsome. I like it." Honestly, I think like everything that comes out of her mouth.

"Anyway . . . watcha doing?" Clare asked. What was I doing? I couldn't tell her that I was obsessing over her and her stomach.

"Watching teevee." Saved by the media. "What are you doing?"

"My sister decided to come home."

"I heard."

"Who from?"

"Peter. He asked me for advice on how to handle her."

"In he insane?"

"No, just smitten."

"I feel sorry-

"Hey, pipsqueak, get of the phone!" Lord have mercy on the Edwards family. Darcy (assuming) had the most awful voice I have ever heard in my life! I would rather have years worth of Jane narrating the most boring seventies newspaper for the rest of my life than listen to her for an hour.

"Can it Darcy, I'm busy."

"Right on." I pumped my fist in the air. You tell her Clare."

"With what? I know you don't have a man."

"For your information I'm talking to-" Clare stopped herself just in time. I smiled at her little slip up. Yes, I'm the man.

"Who, your little Muslim, lesbian friend?"

"Alli isn't a lesbian! If anyone's the lesbian around here it's you. Why else would you want to be a cheerleader?"

"What the Hell?"

"You just wanted to look up their skirts." Burn. Seriously, that was just a major burn.

"Mom, Clare won't get off the phone!" Pitiful little Darcy has to go crying to mama.

"Just use your cell phone!"

"I don't want to use up my minuets." I heard a shuffling, and then a lot of muffled noise.

"Stupid girl." I rambled. I saw their house. I _know _she has an unlimited plan.

"Get off of me you pseudo-Kenyan whore!" Fiona came in the door. She had the other phone in her hand. I gave her a look.

"Get her, baby!" I yelled over the phone.

"What? This is interesting." Said Fiona.

"Yeah, well," Darcy was at a loss for words. I don't think she knew what the word 'pseudo' meant "You're a bigger one!"

"Wow, great come back." No one heard me.

"Just let her use the phone. She's been in a third world country for goodness sakes." The voice was shrill, like Darcy's, but it sounded far off.

"Fine!" Clare screamed. She put her mouth back to the phone. "I'm sorry. I'll have to call you when they go to bed." Her tone had changed. It was softer, more gentle than when she was yelling at her family.

Suddenly, I realized how I would get her in my net. It was preposterous. It was perfect. "When would that be?"

"Like, eight."

"That's early.

"Yeah, my dad works hard and mom goes to bed when the sun goes down. Darcy took a really late flight last night, so she didn't sleep. I'm surprised she hasn't conked out yet."

"You'll call me?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"No, Declan, I'm going to fight over the phone, get my bitchy sister pissed off at me, and wait just to _not _call you." I smiled. She's not going to get out of promising through sarcasm.

"Promise?" I said in the most rich, soft tone I could manage. Clare swallowed audibly.

"When you say it like that . . ." I heard her breathing over the phone.

"Promise?"

"Yes.


	5. Adrenaline Junkie

I would like to extend a HUGE thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys kept me going. I took a big, heavy sledge hammer and broke the brick wall that was my writer's block, and it's all thanks to you. ________________________________________________________

This was amazingly stupid. I drive down the street slowly, they I turn around and go back up the street. My loop is about a mile long. The gas in my car is starting to deplete.

I am waiting for Clare to call. I am praying for Clare to call. If she doesn't, I'll drive my car off a cliff!

Okay, I won't drive my car off a cliff, but I will write another poem. I'll call it . . . melancholy astronaut.

She called.

"Hey." She said.

"Hey. I said. I started to near her cull-de-sac. Turning my lights off, I neared her house. If I get caught by the local patrol or something, it would be a scandal. This neighborhood has a strict eight o'clock curfew. Anyone under the age of eighteen would get arrested.

Personally, I think it's silly. I don't even get home until ten on weekends. Party-less weekends.

"So. . . Darcy cooled down yet?" I don't care what Darcy does, as long as it doesn't involve Clare. I hope she isn't mauling Peter. I shiver at the thought. I've never seen Darcy, but I assume she is pretty (only because she is related to Clare) but just by hearing her voice, she must be awful.

"Yeah, she didn't even use the land line. After she got the phone she used her cell phone." Horrid, stupid woman. I think that Clare should get a Nobel Peace Prize for putting up with her.

"Wow, that's horrible." I said, trying to keep her occupied for a moment. She can't suspect anything. I don't need her having me unwittingly arrested. I got out of my car and walked around the house looking for a room with a light. The first one was pitch black. The second one had a little glow, but I knew it was a night light.

Adults sleeping with a night light? No, Darcy sleeping with a night light. I laughed to myself, then, I slipped on the wet grass and fell on my face.

With the third window, I hit the jackpot. Clare. I threw the pebble I had in my hand at her window.

"Declan, I'll need you to call the cops. Someone is trying to break in my window." Her voice sounded frantic. I heard her get up off of her bed. This isn't good. Why can't I be smooth like Romeo, or Johnny Depp?

"Wait! You'll like the intruder. Open your window." I paused for a moment. Was I being obsessive? I'm throwing projectiles at a fourteen year old's window, at night, with a warm car, that I drove here without my headlights on. No, not obsessive, or creepy, or skuzzy. Not at all.

I started to think, but I forgot about it when I saw her little shadow walk towards the window and open it. Clare leaned out of the window and looked down at me. She had changed her clothes, but she wasn't in pajamas. I smiled, not knowing exactly what to do. I was going to climb up to her window, and sweep her off her feet, but now, I found that there was no way to get up there. All the movies had a tree, or lattice or something like that.

I expected her to ask me what I'm doing here, or yell at me or something, but she just smiled.

"Stay there." Said Clare. I could see her hang up the phone and throw it on her bed. I hung up my own phone and placed it safely in my pocket. In a moment, she was walking around the house and toward me. Apparently I wasn't the only one excited. I ran at her full speed and gripped her in a tight bear hug. I picked her up, and spun her around. She felt so small. Not frail, but small. She still smelled sweet, but now, it was a combination of grass, and rain, and vanilla. I could feel her full breasts push against my chest. I tried to forget about them, and the feeling they were giving me, but I couldn't.

I sat her down before little Declan could have his say. She pouted, but didn't press the matter.

"What are you doing here?" There it is. Truth was, I have no idea exactly why I'm here. It's okay, stay cool. Be smooth. Girls like that.

"To take you on a date." Good. That's good. She smiled at me. If I were a drug addict, her smile would be my meth.

"Where?" I'm taking _her_ on a date. Hasn't she been on a proper date before? I suppose not. Her last boyfriend was a niner, basketball headed, closet gay. (I have formulated a theory. I think he's a basketball player because he likes to see other boys in the locker room. My suspicions prove correct. He's dating a girl who has a manly facial structure. Anyway, I' a baseball man myself.)

"Anywhere. Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

"Where do you want to go?"

"The Dot works." My shoulders slumped. I don't want to see Holly J. And Spinner suck face over my food. (The food _is _good though.) A look of revelation crossed Clare's face. Even though I was bummed, her cute little epiphany made me feel better.

"Oh, Declan, I'm sorry. I didn't think-" Damn-it!

"It's alright." She wants the Dot, she'll get the Dot. I can get over it. I smiled and took her hand. "Let's go!" I trotted to my car with her following like a puppy on a leash. Puppies are so adorable.

I stopped. Yes. Yes, this will work.

"Clare, have you ever driven anything?"

"A golf cart, like, once. Why?"

"Want to drive?" I smiled and jingled the keys at her. Everyone needs to know how to drive. It makes you feel good, like you rule the world.

I could see her fight with herself for a moment.

She took the keys.

I opened the door for her and waited for her to scoot in. I got in the car. Clare put the key in the ignition and turned on the car. She put the car from 'park' to 'drive.' She started off slow, like she was scared. She got out of the cull-de-sack and on to the road, almost hitting her own mailbox along the way. The road was again, empty.

"What's the speed limit on this street?" It didn't matter, she couldn't be breaking it. She couldn't be going over fifteen miles per hour.

"As fast as you want to go." I said as I slid myself into the middle seat. Gently, I slipped my arm around her shoulders. Now I could see the speedometer, and I was right. Fifteen miles per hour. I reached over her as if I were going to touch her breast, but I turned on the headlights. I'm not that perverted. Okay, I might be, but not this early in a potential relationship.

Clare started to speed up. She went faster, and faster, and faster, until she was brushing on the one hundred mark. I could see the look on her face. _The _look. She was enjoying the rush. If she hit a rock, if the Fuzz showed up, she would be screwed, but if she wasn't, she would get away with everything. _Clare _could break the rules, but no one else could. It was a power trip. I smiled to myself.

I had created a little adrenaline junkie. I hope she likes _other _kind of rushes too.

Suddenly, sirens started to sound in the distance. I looked back to find about four police cruisers following us.

"Shit!" She looked at me with panic stricken eyes. "Declan, what do I do?!"

_ "_Pull over!"

"But, we'll get busted! And besides, if I pull over at this speed, they'll hit us." I hadn't thought of that. It's bad that my car is getting chased by the cops, but it's even worse that I'm letting an underage, unlicensed person drive, and speed, no less. My image will be smeared, but hers will be destroyed. She'll never get a job, Clare won't even get a license. She'll be the loser twenty-five year old who lives of the parents they hate and can't drive.

On top of that, it might total my car, and it might total Clare.

Clare started to speed up even more. I held on to her shoulders a tighter. The car was the plane, and she was my parachute.

My heart started to pump quickly. This was amazing. It was like sky-diving, and scuba diving, and any other, extreme sport you could think of, all at once.

The police did went faster too, but apparently, their cars can't drive 130. They lagged behind.

Clare slowed a little bit, and cut into a forest walking trail. The car was barley able to get through without sustaining scratches.

The first cop slowed down as much as it could, but still knocked into the trees. The other one barley got out of the way and skidded into a tree. The quick glances over my shoulder told me that it wasn't bad enough for someone to get hurt.

When we were out of the way, Clare slowed.

Then she ran into a tree.

How she could drive like a NASCAR driver, and evade police, and then knock into a tree that was right in front of her, I will never know.

"Remember that golf cart I told you about?"

"Yeah." She looked down to her lap. I could see a smile cross her face.

"Did I tell you I totaled it?" I laughed. I laughed so hard that my stomach hurt. After a moment, she joined in. Her laugh was so soft, like wind on tall grass. 


	6. Arson

I know that Degrassi is just a street (De Grassi Street in Toronto) and the name of the school, but I'm referring to it as more of a town because I'm not sure what else to call the area around the school where the story is taking place.

Thank you again for the reviews. They mean a lot to me.

__________________________________________________________ I silently thanked our handyman. I had asked him to put my new licence plate on my car, but he never did. If he had, the police would have known it was me.

So, I would like to formally say (well, think) Thank you, Gerald. I would like to apologize for thinking you were lazy.

"So, what do we do now?" I asked Clare calmly. She laughed, but not out of humor. She didn't know what to do. When there's nothing else to do, it's best to just find something to be happy about. I started to laugh too. She knows how to get out of a car chase safely, but the afterglow of a rush baffles her. To be honest, it baffles me too.

I love the word 'baffle.'

"Should we go on the run?" I said in jest.

"What should our aliases be?" She pointed at me. "You should be Darren DeLoose." Darren DeLoose. I like it.

"Yeah, and you'll be SugarFoot Sally." I laughed, but she didn't. She just smiled and cocked an eyebrow at me. Whoops. I suppose that didn't sound as funny as it did in my head. She shook her head and leaned into my chest. Clare nuzzled into me.

"Now all we have to do is get rid of the evidence." I sobered. Clare was right. We just led a high speed chase and damaged two police cars. Sooner or later, they would come looking for us, and then find the car, and then test for DNA, and then find us!

"Your right." I said seriously.

"What?" She pulled away a little bit so she could see my face.

"Your right." I let go of her, albeit unwillingly, and pulled the keys out of the car. I reached into the backseat and got the emergency kit. "Get out of the car." She obeyed. I took the paper towels and the matches out of the kit. I got out of the car and spread the paper towels in the backseat. They would add to the burning surface area.

I pulled my licence plate out of the floor board. Then, I lit a match. I dropped the match on the paper towels.

It was beautiful, in a way. My first car was lighting up the sky. I could feel Clare's hand wrap around mine.

"I wasn't serious, but a bonfire is pretty to watch."

"It won't be so pretty when the fire reaches the gas. We need to get out of here." We started to walk down the walking path that we were driving on. I've been on it with Fiona. It makes a straight line through the woods and lets back out on Sycamore Street. Sycamore Street goes through the main drag of Degrassi.

"I love the term 'main drag.' It makes me think of the races."

"Really, what kind of races?" Clare asked, genuinely interested. Most of the other girls I take out don't really care.

"Cars, motorcycles, unicycles. Anything really." Especially unicycles. Those people on one wheeled contraptions put a smile on my face.

"No horses?"

"No. I don't think it's very humane. I have an uncle who races horses. He pumps them up with steroids." I hear a loud _boom_ in the behind us. There goes all the evidence. Take that, fun-sucking cops. I hope it doesn't start a forest fire.

You know what, never mind that, I hope it burns half the woods down. That's what they get for chasing a diplomat and his woman. Don't fuck with Declan Coyne.

I just hope it won't hurt a squirrel. They are so cute.

"Do you like races?" That was a stupid question. Of corse she does.

"I don't get to watch them. The only thing my mom doesn't have a filter on is the showerhead."

"You never watch TeeVee?"

"Not at home."

"No Dane Cook, no Jeff Dunham, no Martha Stuart?"

"Nope." She paused, and then looked at me. "Martha Stuart? Really, Declan?"

I blushed. I usually don't anyone about my Martha. It's embarrassing, but it's so easy to talk to Clare. It just . . . slipped out.

"Yes." I wiped my eye in a fake-cry kind of way. "I'm sensitive."

"It's alright. I put a picture of Jenna on a board and throw darts at it when I'm mad." I nudged her.

"That's childish."

"Oh yeah, well so is this." She shoved me as hard as she could, which wasn't very hard. I decided to play along, so I fell down, but I took her down with me. She fell on my chest and I wrapped my arms around her. I leaned up to kiss her when police sirens started to blow. We shot up and started to run down the path. We had gotten far away, but I don't know If they have dogs with them or not.

Before we knew it, we were back on the main drag. Then a few minuets later, we were stepping into the Dot.


	7. Kicking Ass in the Name of Chivalry

This is the last chapter. The ending is a little choppy, but I can't think of another way to end it. I meant for this to be a oneshot in the first place, but my imagination ran away with me. Now, it's a onenight.

Oh, goodness at the people. Apparently, it's bouncing here at 9:30. I sight a clean, empty booth in the corner and lead Clare there by the hand. I can feel eyes on my back, but I'm used to it. I suppose Clare is too. Sometimes, a lot of people show up at that Bot Wars stuff. She's in Scholars Bowl too. (Also know as quiz bowl)

She was so bright. I like a girl that I can carry on a conversation with. I wish she took classes with me, we could talk about newton. (whom I think is a self-centered, accidental scientist)

After a moment, A waitress comes to the table, but I'm to enchanted by Clare to notice. I heard some mumbling, but I was marveling at the softness of her hair. I wish we were in a private place so I could put my hands in it.

"Hey! Earth to Declan! What do you want to drink?" I knew that voice. Holly J. It was a bit rougher than I remembered it, but still recognizable. I didn't want to look at her, but I did.

Her hair was a bit of a mess, and she had a mystery stain on her apron, but that was one of the hazards of working.

"Tea is fine." I said.

"And you?" She looked at Clare. She sized her up, and then cocked her head to the side. I don't know if it was because she didn't know why she was out with me, or if she was waiting for her drink order. I think it was a little bit of both.

"Dr. Pepper, please." She wrote the order, or what I think was the order, on the little pad and walked away. I don't know what waitresses write on those little notes. Sometimes, I get the bill and all it is dollar amounts and little letters. It might mean Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato, or Big, Large, man named Tomas.

Holly J. Thought Soda is childish. She crinkled up her nose and gave Clare a disgusted look, but it wasn't about a drink. Declan Coyne, the Declan Coyne, with a kid? It was horrible.

I caught a glance at Holly J as she walked away. Clare looked at her too. The look in her eyes were almost hateful, but not as malicious. Like Holly J. Was a slug and she had decided not to step on it, even if it's hurting her garden. Clare dismissed her after a moment. I'll ask her about her feelings toward her later. I can't have my 'current' hating my 'ex.' That would make some major drama.

It was possible she didn't see Holly J. As a threat, and she wasn't. Just an ex. Well, just an ex now.

Then she looks behind me. Her eyes fill with anger, as if she had just seen something truly, horribly, ugly. I also see something that I didn't think I would see from Clare. A glint of fear.

"You start young, don't you Declan." I looked up to him. This is obviously K.C. He's not ugly, but he's not as handsome as me. Standing behind him with a smug smile on her linebacker face is Jenna.

"Yes, Juniors and Seniors are so stressed. You can't have any fun with them." He looked dumbfounded for a moment. I think he has that look on his face a lot. Then, the most amazing thing happened, well, most amazing _things_.

First, Clare reached across the table and took my hand.

Then, K.C. had a look of 'I've got an idea! I'm so amazing!" Idiot.

"I suppose Little Decs isn't much of an adult anyway." K.C. ruffled my hair. No man touches my hair. I don't think it's natural.

"Don't touch me." He started to ruffle my soft, not-want-to-be-touched-by-boy hair again. I smacked his hand away. He got an angry look on his face, as if I had insulted his mother, or something awful like that. K.C. shoved me. I stood up and pushed him back.

I've been in fights, but never one with someone so young, but as I realized he was about my size. I was taller, but he had a thicker build, so I think it evens out.

Clare reaches out and gives my sleeve a small tug.

"Don't. Please, he's not worth it." I looked at Clare. She had a 'don't do something stupid' look on her face. My mother gives it to Fiona when she is about to go on a date. I start to sit back down.

K.C. threw a hard punch and hit me right in the nose. Bastard! He caught me while I wasn't looking. I fell back into the booth. I could feel the blood start to come out. He broke my nose! That asshole wasn't going to get away with this.

I wiped the blood off of my face, sprung out of the booth, and grabbed that sorry bastard's collar. I'm going to get in trouble for this, but I don't care. I slammed him against the brick wall and pushed him off the floor so we could be at eye level. I brought my fist back.

Then, there was a little tug at the back of my shirt. I paused. I am so angry, that if someone tried to yank me off of the little basketball gorilla, I would have knocked them on their ass too. This tug was so gentle, I couldn't just keep going.

"Declan, stop it." Clare said. I turned around to see Clare holding on to the hem of my shirt. "Lets go."

"But . . . he hit me." I looked at her with a puzzled look. I still had him by the collar.

"That's right. Listen to your bitch." No. No one, NO ONE TALKS ABOUT MY LADY LIKE THAT!

Apparently, Clare thought the same way, because she let go of my hem.

I swung my fist at his face as hard as I could. I hit him in the jaw and I swear I heard a small _pop_, but I know I didn't breakit. A fracture, maybe. (I _could _have broken it, if I wanted to.) I dropped K.C. and he crumbled to the floor like a broken accordion.

I gave K.C. a last, angry look. Clare started to lead me out of the restaurant, when I heard a little, soft, _clap_. I looked behind me to see Holly J. With her hands together. I didn't stop walking, but I smiled and nodded my head at her.

Everything was fine. At least, it was fine between us. We may not be the best of friends anymore, but we won't jump down each other's windpipe if we sit together at lunch.

I remember how she loved it when someone stood up for who they cared about. Others started to clap. Clare and I walked out of the Dot with a roaring applause behind us.

We got to the bench about a block away from the Dot.

"I'm going to sue his ass six ways to Sunday."

"Please, don't." Clare leaned into me. I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her into my chest. She nuzzled into me and took in a long, lingering breath. She whispered something, seemingly to herself, but I'm not sure. I chose to ignore it.

After a moment, she pulled away. She took the blue hanky out of my pocket and dabbed away blood on my neck that I didn't know was there.

"Why not?"

"He's had some trouble with the law. If he gets caught doing anything illegal, he'll get sent to juvie."

"Good. It'll get him out of our hair, and why do you care?"

"He may not be my boyfriend anymore, but he's still my friend, we just can't talk around Jenna. Her and Alli aren't on good terms." For a moment, I thought that K.C. may be trying to put the moves on _my _Clare, but them I figured it didn't matter. She wouldn't get back with him when she has me. Right? Right.

"K.C. isn't a bad person, he's just . . . a little impulsive. Besides, he's jealous." She smiled and took my hand. "There's a lot to be jealous of." I smiled. I could feel the blush coming on my face. Why am I blushing? I've been in a car, alone with many girls before, but they were always the ones to swoon. Now, I'm the love sick puppy and she was the one who was getting fought over.

"Are you mad at me?" I had hit him anyway, even though she asked me not to.

"Hell no!" She laughed. "I wanted you to beat the shit out of him!" Okay, now I'm confused. To beat-up, or not to beat-up?

"What?"

"He hurt me. He hurt me really bad, but he's not worth it. Leaving me, for Jenna!? How confused can someone get?"

"You mean, 'how stupid can he get?" I smiled. "Hey, question?"

"Shoot."

"What was that look for."

"What look?"

"The one you shot at Holly J."

"I don't like her."

"Why, I don't want her back." She smiled at me.

"Don't be so vain. I've never liked her. She's just . . . ugh, I don't know, I just don't like her." I smiled. She smiled.

Then, I had an epiphany. This would last. We've been through an awful storm, the police, Darcy, Fiona's baking problems, breaking out of a gated community, a high speed chase, a collision, arson, Martha Stuart, the 'Hateful Glare of Holly J.,' a linebacker's boyfriend, a fight.

And all with out a corse word to each other.

Were we a perfect match?

No.

Would we be 'together for ever?'

I don't know, but I think we might.

Would we go on a second date?

Definitely.


End file.
